Follow Me
by Galala
Summary: When Cato is sent away for Hunger Games training he is partnered with a curious boy everyone seems to despise, and despite everyone's warnings Cato can't help but fall in love...or Cato's version of love. Cato X Original Character: Male-Male
1. Fist Movement: Chapter 1

A story with my favorite character, Cato and my own original character Errol. This is a whole retelling of how they met and new story with a new inspiration.

For those of you who have read my old stories you may now something about the characters, but for those coming in fresh, you'll probably like the story better.

I really hope you enjoy.

Comments and Reviews in the Doobly-do

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1'st Movement

Cato wasn't someone who liked to pretend. He didn't like to fake emotions he didn't feel and he didn't like the censor himself when he wanted to tell the truth. He was honest, brutish and most importantly he was a warrior. He was Cato Eucliff, the baddest boy of District 2. He was the shining star of his generation and he was reminded of it everyday. He would get up and train to swooning girls, then off to school to get the best grades in the class, and finally off to group training to put all the other trainees to shame. He was strong, handsome and angry, but that never stopped the girls from loving him and the guys from hating him. So when he was told by his father he would be going away for a month Cato was less than obliging.

He pulled his bags from his house and loaded them onto the shuttle. He was being sent to the trainees camp for four months to help his training along. Cato didn't hate the idea of going, but he did hate the idea of being away from home for so long, because despite himself he did like being around his family. He kissed his mother on the cheek and shook his father hand, a good way of saying goodbye in district 2. Before he could leave he felt something grabbing his leg that made him stop. He looked down and saw his little sister holding him tight. She was only 4 and she still didn't know much about the Hunger Games, she didn't need to. Cato needled down and brushed her long blonde hair from her teary face. Cato loved very few things, but he loved his little sister with all of his heart. He picked her up and cradled her for a bit.

_"Moon River, wider than a mile,_

_I'm crossing you in style...someday._

_Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker,_

_wherever you're going I'm going your way."_

Cato sang the only song he really knew to his sister, and she eventually calmed down. He learned the song years ago when he was just a kid, and he sang it to his sister whenever she was feeling particularly sad. He put her back down and gave her a kiss on the forehead, and left without another word.

When he boarded the shuttle the guide went into more detail about what Cato would be experiencing over the next month. It would be the harshest most intense training he would ever experience, well according to the guide it would be. Apparently it was one gigantic training ground divided up into three sections. One section would be for Hunger Games trainees, another for peacekeepers draftees, and the last would be for Messengers. "Messengers..." Cato thought grimly. Its not that Cato disliked messengers but whenever he saw then jumping throughout the city streets and flying over the rooftop he always became filled with a sense of anger. It wasn't hate, or resentment, but seeing them as nothing but flashes of red scarfs, so boundless and free, he couldn't help but feel a little envious.

They eventually arrived and Cato was able to see the entire layout of the grounds. They were deep into the mountains now and he could see the three camps sat on their enormous plateaus, obviously man made. One plateau was covered in high thick woods, another in a long field of short and long grass and the last was nothing but rock and cold mountain. They landed on the mountain side opposite from the training grounds and were quickly escorted out onto the snowy mountain. The boys were left to their own for a few minutes, but none of them liked standing on the top of a freezing mountain with no coats of jackets. "Whats wrong pussies? You cold?"

Cato turned and saw three clearly older boys walking towards them. They were tall burly guys with cocky attitudes that Cato didn't like. The boys took their time walking around to inspect the recruits, which meant pushing them around and kicking them into the snow. Now Cato wasn't a kind person, but he wasn't a cruel one either. He walked over and helped a few guys up only to be pushed to the ground by one of the older boys. "Watch your ass new kid." One of the boys yelled. Cato got back up and continued helping other boys out of the snow, but when he did he received a heavy punch from one of the boys. Cato fell back and could feel the burning pain growing from his cheek. He touched his cheek and looked at the boys, who were laughing like a pack of hyenas. "Make a move faggot!" One of the boys yelled. Cato was burning inside like a fire. He could have torn all of those boys to shreds in seconds if he wanted to, so he did.

Before the older boys could even realize what happened Cato flew towards them and ripped them to pieces. Fists, blood and pain, that's the mantra Cato lived by, well while he was in combat anyway. The other trainees looked on in horror as Cato tossed around the older boys like rag dolls. With one last fist to the face Cato dropped the last boy to the ground. Cato could still hear the whimpering and groans of the boys at his feel, bloody and broken. Cato didn't feel proud, or strong when he beat these boy, there was no honor in defeating these nobodies. Cato kept looking down at them ignoring the sounds of yelling from the adults. He was kicked to the ground by what he assumed were guards and taken from the group. Before he disappeared into the main building he caught sight of the boy who he had helped up from the snow, but Cato turned away when he saw the boys were full of fear.

Cato was taken down several long white halls until they reached a small waiting room in front of two large whit doors. "Sit." One of the guards said placing him in a chair. Cato sat and waited for what seemed like an hour. His eye was burning worse than before and he knew it would swell and turn black soon enough. He licked the inside of his lip and tasted that awful metallic taste of blood, probably a busted lip too. Eventually the doors opened up and a youngish woman holding another clipboard came out. "This way." She said motioning to Cato. The guards made him rise and led him though the doors. As he went through the doors he saw a gigantic office. It was pristine and full of things one would expect to find in the Capitol, not some mountain range. At the end of the office was a large white desk where an older woman sat. She was wearing a modest red dress and hair tight blonde hair that was cropped short. In the clean white office she stood out as the most important thing you would ever see. At the head of her desk was a name plaque, Dr. Sofia Lamb. The guards sat Cato in front of her but she didn't look up quite yet, still to preoccupied with her paper work. The guards eventually left and closed the doors, leaving Cato and this woman in the room alone.

"Cato Eucliff, of District 2." She said while not looking up. "Am I right?" She said finally looking at him. Cato was grateful for the chance to finally look at her. She was an older woman, probably in her mid 40's, but was unmistakable beautiful. Her short blonde hair framed her face in such a way that it drew all attention to her brown eyes, which were covered by thin glasses. "That's right." Cato said flatly. She smiled quickly and put her papers down. "What am I going to do with you?" She said taking off her glasses. Cato guess she was talking about his behavior on the mountain side, but he still didn't feel guilty about it, not that he really felt anything about it. "We have a fairly simple system for training here. You are partnered with another boy and made to work in pairs. You sleep in the same room, have the same training schedule and are looked on as partners, just like you would be in the games. But now you've been deemed unsafe to work with anyone in the hunger games trainee program." She said with no particular joy in her voice. Cato figured that he would simply been kicked out of the program and sent home.

"You know its awfully unfortunate." She said. "Our program is very expensive and it appears that you father had to make some terrible sacrifices to pay to send you here." Cato's eyes widened at the idea. They went a poor family, but certainly not rich. It never occurred to Cato that his family was spending so much to send him here. Cato swallowed hard eliciting a smile from the woman."Luckily...I believe I can work something out." Cato looked up at her hopeful, but still silent. "We have a boy in the Messengers program who seems to have a similar problem to yours. Seem he cant get along with other so well either." She handed Cato a form which he quickly looked over. "Errol Sinclair?" Cato said quietly. "Yes," was all the woman said. "You'll be his partner for the next four weeks. So try to get along." As she finished she turned back to her paperwork and gave Cato the impression she was done talking to him.

Like clockwork the guards came back in and escorted Cato out of the room. "Who was that." Cato casually asked a guard. "Dr. Sophia Lamb. She runs the training grounds, and you will show her respect." He said with a harsh tone. Before Cato could think for too long he was taken to another large building. He guesses this is where he would be living. A young man, probably a few years older than Cato, came waling towards them and the guards released Cato to the young man custody. "You must be Cato." The young man said smirking. "Hasn't even been three hours and you already have a reputation. Don't worry, we'll break you of that soon enough." The young man said, still smirking. If Cato actually saw the young man as any sort of threat he may have been upset, but Cato figured this was the kind of person who would talk more and fight less. The young man introduced himself as Noland, and quickly went through the room assignments. "Ohh...looks like you're shit out of luck now." Noland said laughing. "Your with Errol" Cato only nodded, having been told by already.

Noland pulled Cato behind a wall and got a little too close for Cato liking. "Look you're going to be with Errol. He's a freak of nature so don't go killing him on the first day." Cato looked at Noland confused, but mostly annoyed. "What do you mean?" Cato asked. "He's no messenger or trainee or warrior. He's just some queer from District 2." Noland said like he was spitting out the words. Cato didn't take kindly to people bad mouthing his home, but he was more cautious now. Noland led him past several doors where the other boys were staying. Cato could hear the sounds of laughing and hollering, but he seemed less interested in them and more interested about this Errol kid. In the back of his head he could have sword he had heard the name before, but just couldn't place it.

"Room 44, this is you." Noland took a key and gave it to Cato. "Have fun with your new best friend." He said walking away laughing. Cato looked at the key in his hand and shrugged, _"It's just the way thing are."_ He said to himself. He placed the key in the lock and turned the knob, opening the door slowly.

Before the door was even fully open Cato caught the sight of a young man starting at him from on high. The young man was sitting on the top bunk in front of a large window, but Cato didn't notice any of it, he was too busy looking at the most striking pair of eyes he had ever seen. They were a dark green with flecks of black around them, he had never seen eyes with black in the iris. The boy was siting off the side of the bed with a red scarf hanging off to the edge. It reminded Cato of how was stood out in her office with her red dress, and this boy definitely stood out. He was tallish, with short dark hair and tan skin. Cato was confused looking up at the kid, he seemed so normal, yet so out of place. Cato noticed the kid holding a book in his hand before finally saying anything. "Hey." Cato said stiffly and awkwardly.

The boy seemed equally wary of Cato, "Hi..." He said coming down from his bed. The boy extended a hand to Cato and put on a weak smile. "I'm Errol." The boy said still holding out his hand. Cato looked at it for a second, almost afraid of why it mean to touch it, but Cato always remembered one important thing, he was never afraid. He took the boys hand and shook it hard, "Cato." He said with a genuine smile. As Cato took the boys hand they both began to relax. Cato could feel the warmth of the boy keeping up from his hand, and at once everything became clear to Cato.

This boys warmth, his eyes his smile. It all painted a picture of mercy and kindness, and for the people of district 2 that kindness and warmth was something to be hated and feared.


	2. Fist Movement: Chapter 2

I've finally worked out the end game.

Lets do this.

And to be honest it gets a little mature.

I own nothing, except what I own.

I really hope you enjoy, Comments and Reviews in the Doobly-do

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First Movement: Chapter 2

For the longest time Cato and Errol sat and just talked, and Cato found that odd. He found it odd that he was speaking to Errol so freely and easily, like they had been friends for years. Errol didn't say much but listened to every word Cato said with an astounding focus, not an intense focus but with an attention to detail that made ever word Cato said feel valued. While they talked Cato took his time looking over Errol, not his appearance, but the deeper hidden parts of Errol, but mostly he just wanted to figure out why people seemed to detest Errol so much. Cato held his tongue and listened at Errol talked, and luckily Errol wasn't one for long speeches. Errol's words were quick and purposeful, something that Cato enjoyed immensely. Cato didn't like to waste time talking and drawing out purposeless conversations and he respected Errol for getting to the point quickly.

"You like living in district 2?" Cato asked leaning back on the bed. Errol looked down at his lap, then over to his red scarf, which was still dangling over the side of the bed. "No, but I couldn't see myself living anywhere else." He said looking back at Cato. Cato understood what Errol meant. Everyone in Panem was born into a place, if it was at the bottom or the top, wherever someone was born is where they would stay. So even if Errol detested District 2, Cato understood that Errol would probably stay there for the rest of his life.

Cato got up and walked over to their shared dresser, which like everything, else was a lavender white. Cato never tired to understand Dr. Sophia's taste but he just went with it. He pulled out a change of sleeping clothes and turned towards the door. "I'm going to get a shower, wanna come?" Cato asked, realizing how awkward the question could have been. Errol looked at Cato wide eyes and shook his head. "I'll take one later. You go ahead." Errol said still jittery. Cato wondered why Errol had suddenly started acting so nervous, but disregarded it and went to the showers.

The bathrooms seemed as grand as the rest of the building, and was lavender white...like everything else. The showers were arranged in a long line with medium high walls between each stall that offered some modest privacy, which Cato didn't care about one way or the other, if anything Cato liked being naked. It was late and more than a few guys were already showering, being loud as always. Cato picked a stall at the end of the line, stripped down and walked in. He turned to water to scalding hot and just stood under the spray. Cato wasn't trying to get clean or anything, he just wanted to relax and lose himself in the steam of the hot water. Cato stood under the spray letting the boiling hot water run over him for a few minutes, but like most things in Cato recent life it ended awfully quickly. **"Hey who's using all the damn hot water?"** Someone called from another stall. As the boys showers started to turn cold they all turned towards the one stall with steam billowing over the walls. Cato quickly switched off the water and walked out of the stall. The boys started yelling at the guy who was using all the water, but as the steam cleared and they saw it was Cato, most of them decided it was best to just take a cold shower. Cato tried to clear out quickly but before he could wrap a towel around his waist a pack of older boys came towards him. Cato looked up at them and raised an eyebrow, he didn't feel like dealing with more thick headed shits like them.

"You're that Cato guy right?" A red headed boy asked. "Yeah, what of it?" Cato asked still in the buff. A few of the guys smirked. "You're pared with that fag Errol aren't you?" The red head asked crossing his arms. "So what?" Cato asked getting steadily more annoyed. "Just watch your back kid, make sure he doesn't try to touch you while your sleeping or steal your underwear." The boys started laughing and Cato was near his breaking point. Even though Cato had just met Errol a few hours ago he didn't like people needlessly bad mouthing him, so while the boys laughed at their own humor Cato walked forward slowly and grabbed the red headed boy by the arm and upper neck, and in one quick harsh movement threw him over his shoulder and into the side of a stall. The other boys started to move against Cato but they were far too slow to react. In a matter of seconds Cato had managed to take down all of them. That made Cato's preverbal body count go up to seven. They were beat, but not beaten. There was no blood or big bruises, Cato thought restrain would serve him well in fights like these, and Cato was sure he would be having more of them. Cato put on his pants and quickly left the bathroom, knowing it was probably not a good idea to be around when the guards came.

Cato ran into the room and slammed the door shut scaring Errol who was laying down. Errol noticed how shaken Cato looked and the fact that he was still dripping wet and shirtless. "Cato?" Errol asked from his bunk. Cato looked up at him with heavy eyes, "You have a towel?" Cato asked getting colder by the second. Errol climbed down from his bed and pulled a white towel from his drawer. Cato gratefully took it and gave himself a quick rub down. As he dried off he put the towel to his face and noticed how good it smelled. It was like a mix between mild coffee and honey. Cato guesses it was Errol's scent, and to be honest, Cato very much enjoyed the smell.

"I can see why you don't shower at times like this." Cato said tossing the towel on the nearby chair. Errol looked at Cato and smiled weakly. "So you've heard..." Errol said trailing off. Cato just shrugged, "People like to talk, but I don't like to listen." Cato said casually. Errol looked down and sad on Cato's lower bunk. "Well, they're right...I am what I am." Errol said fumbling with his fingers, like they were some sort of puzzle with the answers to his problems hidden within. Cato was surprised by Errol, he didn't deny it for a second, and Cato found another reason why he liked Errol, he wasn't trying to hide who he was. Cato smirked and sat next to Errol. He laid back and put his arms behind his head relaxing. "I don't give a damn what you are." Cato said stretching his still tense muscles. "People can change things about themselves, liking dick isn't one of them." Cato may have stated it crudely, but he was right. Errol was somewhat speechless, partly because of what Cato had said and partly because he had still yet to put on a shirt and was stretching every muscle in his chest.

"Thank you Cato." Errol said softly. "But could you do me a favor?" Errol asked still trying to focus. Cato looked at Errol from his relaxed position and raised an eyebrow. "Whats up?" Cato asked casually.

Errol tried to hold back a smile. "Could you maybe put a shirt on? Its getting hard to concentrate." Cato immediately busted out laughing and Errol did the same. Cato really didn't care that Errol was gay. He knew Errol was a good person in the ways that mattered. So he walked to his drawer and put on a tight red shirt that always made him feel like a badass. "All right, lets go to bed." Cato said pushing Errol back to his bunk. Errol laughed at the casualness of their exchange, but was beaming inside. Errol had never felt so content in his whole life. No one had ever said what Cato had just said, and Errol somehow doubted anyone would again. Errol had been picked on his whole life for being gay. Ever since he had kissed his elementary school crush on a dare he had been an outcast, a hated outcast in district 2. So when Cato had dismissed his pain in such a casual way, Errol felt lighter and happier.

Errol crawled in his bed and Cato switched off the light. "Goodnight." Cato said getting cozy under the covers. Errol thought for a moment what goodnight meant, he felt a little stupid for analyzing something so trivial, but he hadn't been told goodnight in years. So Errol let himself savor the word for a few moments before responding. "Goodnight." Errol said closing his eyes.

The boys stayed awake for a few minutes, just staring into the dark. Cato very much liked Errol now. He was calm and smart, and unmistakably kind. Cato didn't care what Errol was, only that he was a good person who didn't piss him off, and if Cato walked around without his shirt on, making Errol nervous, it was just an extra kick. Cato laughed at the thought before he finally fell asleep.

But like everything it didn't last long. Cato was trying to sleep, but their was a rumbling near the dresser and closet. Cato opened his eyes and saw the clock mounted on the opposite wall. _"3:50?"_ Cato thought still groggy from sleep. As his eyes adjusted he could just make out the outline of someone fumbling through the dresser drawers. "Hello?" Cato said weakly. The figure turned and seemed surprised at Cato's awakening. Cato got up from his bed and turned on the lamp nearest the bed. It flicked on and he covered his eyes, blinded by the sudden light, but no matter how bright or sudden the light was Cato could see the figure clearly now. It was Errol. It took Cato a few seconds to put everything together. Errol in the dark, and him digging through the drawers while Cato was sleeping. Cato remembered what the red headed boy said about Errol stealing underwear, and while the rational side of Cato knew Errol would never do anything like that, the irrational, fearful side took over as Cato got up and walked in front of Errol. **"The fuck are you doing?"** Cato barked, growing slowly more enraged. Cato had tried to be friendly to Errol, he trusted him and tried to see the person Errol really was, but the thought that Errol was trying to do something so disgusting while Cato slept a few feet away, infuriated Cato in a terrible way. Errol stepped back and knew what Cato was accusing him of, he was been accused of it several times before. "Cato..." Errol said with a hurt voice. **"I said what the fuck are you doing?"** Cato yelled again. Errol stepped back and pulled out a towel, chance of clothes and soap.

"I was going to take a shower." Errol said with a weak voice. "This is the only safe time I can go." Errol said trying to fight back tears. Errol gathered his things and left the room as quickly as he could. Cato tried to grab his arm but Errol moved too fast and was gone in an instant. Cato wanted to chase Errol down and apologize, but it seemed meaningless to him now. Cato went back to his bed and put his face in his hands. Cato had never fucked up like this before, he had never put so much faith and kindness into a person just to rip it out from under them. He felt weak and pathetic for what he did. He had never listened to gossip or rumors people said, so he questioned why he would believe those assholes for a second. Then it slowly occurred to Cato that maybe he wasn't so secure with Errol, and somewhere deep down he was afraid of what Errol was, maybe he even hated what Errol was.

Cato waited for Errol to come back so they could talk. Cato was exhausted but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep without talking to Errol first. Cato waited in the room for a long time. He thought about what he was going to say, if he was going to apologize what exactly should he apologize for, and then something odd occurred to Cato. Why should he apologize, why should he care if he hurt Errol's feelings? He had only just met Errol and Cato didn't feel like he should feel so bad. Cato wanted to bury his guilt and move on, hell he might even start picking on Errol too, it seemed like it was easy to do. But that wasn't Cato. Cato wasn't a cruel man, and despite himself he couldn't hide away the burning guilt he felt anymore. He waited up, still wanting to talk to Errol, but Errol was taking an awfully long time.

Cato looked at the clock and saw that Errol had been gone for 40 minutes. Cato didn't know if Errol just liked long showers or if something else had happened, but a protective instinct inside him made Cato get up and dash down the hall towards the bathroom. Cato knew why he rushed to see Errol. To Cato, Errol was a weak innocent thing that needed his protection, like his sister, who he would have done anything to protect.

Cato ran quickly down the white halls but stopped in the middle of the building. Something caught Cato's eye, it was a tiny speck that anyone could have missed, anyone except Cato. He looked down and inspected it closer, and realized what it was instantly.

It was blood. A droplet of blood, and it was still wet.


	3. Fist Movement: Chapter 3

The Diary entries of Lamb

I own nothing, except what I own.

I really hope you enjoy, Comments and Reviews in the Doobly-do

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First Movement: Chapter 3

_Utopia_

_Said aloud it invokes heaven on earth yet, the word means both good place and no place, an ideal, unreachable. Even in the naming of it we refuse to believe, and yet we will forever seek Utopia, driven always to want more, no matter how much we have. It is among the grandest of human ironies that our very drive to find Utopia has kept us from abiding there..._

_For every choice, there is an echo. With each act, we change the world. One man chose a world, free of law and God. But others chose corruption. And so the world fell. If the world were reborn in your image, would it be paradise,_

_Or perdition?_

Cato ran through the halls trying to spot every fleck of blood that littered the walkways. Every few feet the dark pools became slightly larger and more scattered, the blood more pronounced and the evidence of a fight became more apparent. Cato seemed to grow more desperate with each spot of blood he found. His thoughts raced with the ideas of Errol laying face down, beaten and broken, just like Cato had done to so many people already. The irony hit Cato mildly, he knew attacking those boys was justified, but hurting someone like Errol was destroying something that Cato saw as innocent. Innocence had always played an unfortunately large role in Cato's live. Protecting his sister and loosing someone important made Cato develop and instinct for protection, and instinct to protect what couldn't protect itself. In that way Cato always viewed himself as a hero, a champion, but at the moment Cato didn't feel like any sort of hero. He felt like a coward, he felt weak, and to anyone who knew Cato, feeling weak was something he never enjoyed.

Cato's search brought him to the front doors leading out into the frozen mountain side. The blood pools stopped and everything around Cato seemed to become heavy and dark. The white halls no longer held a pristine beauty, but only a darkness that allowed fear. Cato threw open the doors and a wave of blistering cold and ice hit him. A storm had begun to boil over the mountain and it would cover the entire range in a few hours.

**"Errol!"** Cato called, trying to be heard over the storm. Cato knew what a storm meant. It meant cold slicing winds, heavy freezing snow, and days of darkness until the sun melted the snow away. Cato ventured into the storm, no the least bit concerned with having no jacket. The wind slammed the doors closed and Cato knew the storm was getting stronger, more fierce. _**"Errol!"**_ He called again, but to no avail. Cato tried to go out further but the storm almost seemed dead set against Cato venturing out. Cato opened his mouth to call again but was distracted by the snag on his pant leg. His bare feet had sunken into the snow and was seemingly trapped by something. Cato jerked his leg, trying to free himself but was unable to free his pant, until he discovered he wasn't so much caught on something, but was being held by something. Cato lifted his leg and saw a hand gripping his pants with all its might.

"E..Errol?" Cato asked with more confusion than actual concern, but when the hand extended to a figure buried under the snow Cato immediately reached down and pulled a cold lump of flesh out from the ice. It was Errol, frozen and nearly dead. Cato tried to drag him out of the snow but Errol was buried deep. Cato had to dig around Errol and pull him out. Cato scooped the boy in his arms and noticed how light he was. "Errol..wake up." Cato called, but Errol was far too gone to hear a word Cato said. The cold had blurred his senses and the wind was dulling everything else. Cato immediately thought about bringing Errol inside, but as he looked towards the building Cato couldn't help but feel that he would be bringing Errol back into the hornets nest. Whoever did this to him was still in there, just lusting after the chance to send Errol back into the snow.

Cato recalled a building he had seen just before he arrived. It was across the court yard from the main building. It was a square shaped building with a red cross plastered across the top. "Errol." Cato said, still not sure if Errol could hear him. "Errol, we're going to the infirmary." Errol still didn't react to his voice, so Cato knew his time was limited. He pulled Errol close to his chest and sloshed through the snow towards help.

It only took a few minutes to reach the infirmary, but the cold had torn Cato apart in the short time. His skin was blistering and his joints were almost completely frozen. He had tried to shield Errol but could barely manage to cover his face. Cato managed to hobble to the door and slam his fist on the frozen metal several times. No one responded so Cato tried again, he could feel the cold door take pieces of his skin with every hit, but he kept beating the door, trying to get help. Cato could feel his consciousness slipping away when a light flickered on inside the building. Cato couldn't help but smile before the cold dark took him into sleep.

Cato noticed something odd when he slept, he didn't dream. There were no flashes of impossible fantasies or longings of dreams unfulfilled, just a dark hard sleep. He would wake every morning with no new feeling of inspiration or promise, he would wake and continue with his day. But Cato never minded. He felt dreams were a waste of time, that dreams slowed a person. Cato was a firm believer in reality and what it offered. For Cato who fought and thrived in the waking world, trying to live another life in the sleeping world seemed terribly redundant. So it was all the more odd when Cato found himself in a large field that he had never seen before. His eyes were drawn to the millions of flowers that seemed to litter the never ending landscape. The sun was shining down and was terribly warm. Cato had never see a place like this, a place so at peace with the world around it. Despite the beautiful surroundings and the warm weather Cato felt horribly uncomfortable. He felt so out of place amongst the light and flowers, like this wasn't his dream. Cato walked slowly through the field and stopped when he came to a large hill over looking a valley with a single tree. Cato tried to walk closer but stopped when he saw a hazy figure walk from behind the tree. The figure didn't seem to notice Cato and pulled something from behind its back. It was a scarf, a long red scarf that seemed to outshine every flower in the valley. The figure tied the scarf around a low hanging branch and seemed contented as it fluttered in the warm breeze.

Cato reached out, trying to summon the figure to his finger tips when his dream cracked down the middle. Like a broken mirror the land around him shattered and crumbled. A horrible pain shot through his side and forced him back to reality. Cato opened his eyes in a sudden painful motion. The piercing sensation on his side only seemed to burn more as it continued. Just before Cato was ready to jump up and attack the sensation faded and a warm feeling started to spread through his body and Cato relaxed.

_"Stupid kids."_ An old voice said. Cato's vision was still hazy but he could make out a woman's figure standing above him. The woman was holding what looked like a needle in her hand, Cato confirmed it when he felt another stabbing in his arm, followed by the warming sensation from earlier.

"Stop it." Cato said slowly rising. Cato's vision quickly returned to him and he discovered he was sitting a small bed. The room was dark, save for a few oil lamps that were hung by the door and over Cato's bed. A creaking made Cato turn to see a woman sitting in an old chair. She was an older woman, probably late 50's by Cato's guess. She was thin but healthy, with long silvery hair tied back into a bun. She wore a white coat which led Cato's to believe she was a doctor, or nurse. She looked at Cato and seemed bemused by his awakening. She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a cigarette, lit it and took a long drag. "Don't fucking smoke in a hospital." Cato said regaining his strength. The woman was less than amused and slammed Cato back to the bed.

"Don't tell me how to run my building." She said blowing smoke in Cato's face. Now Cato was never one to be violent against women, but this old bitch was working Cato's nerves. Cato tried to get back up but was held down by the woman cold hand. Cato didn't realize how weak or drugged he was.

"Just relax Cato. Miss. Sandersonia will take good care of us." Cato turned and saw Errol sitting on a bed behind him. Under the oil lamp Cato could make out a few bandages and a swollen left eye, but he was alive, and Cato was extremely relieved. Errol smiled at Cato, happy he was safe too. Errol wasn't one to hold grudges, and when he heard Cato calling his name in the storm it brought Errol back to live. Cato got up and limped over to Errol. He was probably in no shape to walk but Miss. Sandersonia couldn't be bothered to stop him. She just relaxed into her chair and pulled out a newspaper. "You're not going to sleep Miss. Sandersonia?" Errol asked.

Miss. Sandersonia looked back and gruffed at the boys. "You woke me up. Might as well stay up." She said putting her face back into her paper. Errol chuckled at Miss. Sandersonia, while Cato pulled the curtain around Errol's bed.

"How are you feeling?" Cato asked not looking Errol in the eyes. Cato still felt ashamed. He felt like an idiot who jumped to conclusions and listened to flippant gossip. Cato didn't know if it was his fault or not, he didn't beat Errol or throw him into the slow to die. Cato wasn't guilty, but he was far from innocent. "I'm fine." Errol said calmly. Errol's tone held no resentment or anger.

"While I was in the snow...everything got cold. My vision turned white." Errol said rubbing his arm. "I thought I would die out there, alone, but something brought me back." Errol looked up at Cato and Cato finally looked back. "I heard someone call my name. I couldn't see who it was, but I heard them. Someone on this godforsaken camp finally called out for me." Errol felt silly for felling Cato this, but he felt like he had nothing to lose at this point. "I reached out and found someone calling for me. It was you...wasn't it?" Errol asked still unsure of how Cato would react.

Cato stood silent for a moment. "I'm sorry." Was the only thing he said. Errol smiled and nodded, "Its okay." Errol said patting Cato on the back. "Thank you for saving me."

Cato smiled and Errol laughed. Cato's smile was something rarely afford to other people, and Errol knew the smile was something valuable. The boys sat together for a few minutes before the curtain was flung back by Miss. Sandersonia. "Get to bed." She told Cato. She grabbed him by his thick arm and dragged him to his cot. "You both have a big morning tomorrow." She said putting out the lanterns. Errol laughed, "Thank you Miss. Sandersonia." Errol said still smiling. Miss. Sandersonia only let out a grunt and walked out of the room.

"You know each other?" Cato called from his bed.

"Yeah. This isn't the first time guys have jumped me. Miss. Sandersonia takes care of me whenever I get hurt, so we see plenty of each other." Errol said with no humor in his voice. Cato leaned back, unable to form an appropriate response. "Miss. Sandersonia is really very kind, she just has a funny way about her." Errol said trying to lighten the mood, but to no avail.

Cato thought for a moment. He wondered why or if he should be friendly with Errol. Its not that Cato hadn't thought about this before, but now things seemed at an impasse. After the drama had ended and lights had faded it was Errol and Cato, all alone in the dark. Cato had done his job, he had rescued Errol and Errol had forgiven him. Cato knew how much trouble going after a friendship with this boy would be. It hadn't even been a day and Cato had faced off with his mortality three times, but Cato seemed contented with moving forward. He feared nothing, no man, woman, beast or world could scare Cato. So Cato got up and walked towards Errol's bed, unafraid. In the dark Errol couldn't see Cato pull up a char and sit next to his bed. Cato got comfortable in the chair and watched at Errol fall asleep.

"Goodnight Errol. I'll see you in the morning." Cato closed his eyes and slept a dreamless sleep.

* * *

_If the world were reborn in your image, would it be paradise, or perdition?_

_...If it was in my image, purgatory._

_If it was in his...Paradise._


End file.
